When the screen came up to choose the characters, Ronan snatched the controller out of my hands, holding it out of reachwhile he clumsily worked his controller one handed to choose my favorite character.
“Hey, not fair!” I laughed, trying to get it back.
He grinned, about to claim his prize when I yanked on one of his horns, causing his finger to slip and chooseWhisker Supremeinstead.
“Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” he growled.
He lunged towards me, controllers thrown off the bed as his fingers became dangerous weapons, tickling my sides without mercy.
“S-stop!” I half-laughed, half-cried. I tried to kick him off me, but he used his weight to pin me down.
“Give meTurbo Tabby, witch!” he replied with mock anger.
I finally managed to get a hand free, and reached up to grab a horn again, this time pulling his head towards me and kissing him.
He froze for a moment, waiting to see if I would push him away or stop. When I didn’t, his hands changed from tickling to caressing, from playful to amorous. His lips left mine and skated up my jaw towards my ear.
“Tell me when,” he panted. “I’ll only go as far as—”
“Ronan,” I moaned, feeling his erection grind against me. “For the love of Hecara, please stop talking.”
He chuckled darkly against my skin. “Shutting up, mate.”
I pulled his T-shirt up his back, and he sat up to remove it the rest of the way, revealing the tattoos that had been quite the surprise when he’d come out of the shower that first day. I knew they hadn’t exactly been a choice for him, but I still thought they were really sexy, and I wanted to trace every line with my tongue.
When he leaned back down, I stopped him with my hand, enjoying the change in his expression from disappointment to excitement as I pushed him back, settling myself on top.
“Be a good boy and stay still for me.”
His eyes widened, and he nodded silently. If he were a werewolf, his tongue would have been wagging.
I got off the bed, standing before him and slowly taking off my clothes. It wasn’t a tease, at least not a very good or coordinated one, but it was deliberate. It was control.
It was me watching Ronan, my mate, as he watched me, hands at his sides. No barking orders, no force, no manipulating me into uncomfortable positions, clothes, or situations because that was what he wanted.
No. It was me with my mate who only wanted me as I was.
Sweatpants, junk food, and all.
I crawled back on the bed, his eyes tracing my every movement, but he remained still. His stomach tensed as my fingers ran down his chest towards his pants, pulling them down. He lifted his hips slightly to help, but otherwise made no move.
His cock sprung free, hard and leaking, and my mouth began to salivate. I never thought I’d ever utter the words “perfect cock” in my life before, but Ronan’s was…
Perfect, yes.
He hissed in pleasure as I grasped his shaft, my tongue darting out to lick up the bead of pre-cum weeping from the head. I maintained constant eye contact, watching him come undone by my slow, careful ministrations.
“Fuck, Sage, can I please talk?”
I laughed, sucking one of his balls into my mouth and releasing it with a soft pop. “Not yet.”
He clamped his mouth shut, moaning wordlessly as I moved back up and brought him as far into my mouth as possible.
I kept an eye on his hands as they gripped the comforter beneath us, not moving to grab my head. To direct me.
He was a passive, submissive participant.
And it made me feel so powerful, so… seen.
